Interludes
by Alecto's Muse
Summary: Potentially a series of independent stories or interludes between Rogue and Gambit: set in the timeline of Anna and the Prince.


Disclaimer: You know the drill!

Finally. She had been waiting all day for this. Dreamed about it, while pretending to listening as Cyclops droned on and on about their plans for the next month. One couldn't imagine the amount of bureaucracy that occurs in terrorist organisations, until experiencing it firsthand. It was really trying her patience. Not that that was difficult. She wasn't known for her patience. Throwing the leather portfolio in the general direction of the couch, she didn't bother to look where it landed. Although the loud thud was a pretty good indication that it missed its target.

She hurriedly peeled off her jacket, and leather uniform and high heeled boots.

"Hey you!" She grinned in anticipation at her boyfriend.

"That was the fastest stripping I've ever seen. Not that I'm complaining chère."

"And if anyone's an expert, it would be you." She teased gently, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before turning away. He was about to complain, but she chose that moment to bend over, rifling through his drawers, giving him a great view of her underwear-clad body. He was appreciative, but closed the few feet that separated them, wrapping his arms around her.

"Maybe you'll find whatever it is you're looking for, if you ask me where it is?" He whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensations coursing through her. He took advantage of the fact that she was trapped in his arms, brushing his lips lightly on her neck. Her eyes fluttered open, and he spun her around so she was facing him.

"I found it." Her voice was low, and a little unsteady as she answered. He looked down to see the white t-shirt she held in her hands. "I do believe you were cheating." She pushed him away with a flourish and pulled his shirt over her head.

"Moi? I never cheat, chère. That didn't count as a kiss. It was more like a caress." He frowned at the soft fabric separating them. "I think you're overdressed."

"Well, I can't exactly run around in my underwear, can I?"

"Sounds like a good plan to me." His hands snaked under the shirt, trailing up along her sides, and then began tickling her mercilessly.

She screamed, and squirmed, before finally pushing him back firmly on the wall. .

"I have to protect my virtue, sir." She said seriously, adding "Besides, I can't let you distract you from my original purpose for coming here."

"And what would that be?"

5 minutes later.

"I must be slipping." Remy shook his head as he bit into his sandwich.

Rogue laughed. "I'm sorry if you feel rejected, sugar, but I've been craving this all day." Her half-empty glass of cold milk, and a sandwich lay on the tray on her lap."

"You're mistaken. I was referring to your skills in the kitchen. I can't believe nothing of me has rubbed off. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." He scoffed.

"You know, I was going to say, if you felt rejected I would make it up to you. But now, I'm going to have to withdraw that offer." She tossed her hair back, and glared at him.

He had the nerve to look amused.

Putting her tray down, she moved closer until she was practically in his lap. She bit gently on his earlobe, eliciting a surprised gasp from his lips.

"Roguey"

"Hmmm"

"What are you doing?"

"Just proving to you my skills in the kitchen." She whispered provocatively.

"Chere, we're not in the kitchen." He pointed out.

"Technically, this is a studio. So you tell me where the kitchen ends." She pulled back so she could look into his eyes. They shared a heated gaze for a few moments, before Remy began tracing a path with his fingers, slowly, up her leg. Suddenly, he moved down, and placed a lingering kiss near the top of her inner thigh. She moaned, and closed her eyes, as he pulled away.

"Nobody likes a tease, chère." He held her close to him. She didn't have to look to see he was grinning. Damn him.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire." She taunted.

"Oui, that they are." She giggled.

He continued. "Anyway, as delicious as your sandwiches are, we gonna need real food soon. What do you think for dinner- maybe a bouillabaisse? Hmmm, do I have tomatoes?"

"I'm sorry hon, but we're having dinner with Scott and Jean. I guess it slipped my mind." She lied.

He had a sinking feeling. "Which restaurant are we going to?"

"Oh, we're not going to a restaurant. We're going to the mansion. Jean's cooking." She said brightly.

He sighed. "I'll call and cancel. You feel like you're coming down with a fever." He grinned.

She laughed "Oh no, you don't. This will teach you not to insult my cooking. I can't think of a better way for you to appreciate what you've got, can you?"

"Chere, you know I have nothing but the highest regard for your talents in the kitchen." Remy leaned in, his breath warm on her cheek.

"All the more reason for us to have dinner with your friends. It'll keep us out of trouble."

"If your palate means so little to you, fine. But you owe me."

His only response from her was a wink.

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